


In a World to be

by Finryl



Series: Mischief Managed - Never [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Thor (Movies), post!thor
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Post!Thor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finryl/pseuds/Finryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midgard had little magic. </p><p>Asgard has Various types of magic.</p><p>When Loki, commonly known as the god of mischief, saw the rising flames of magic in the weakest realm he knew; he simply could not resist.<br/>When days grew old, and Loki wished for nothing more than a golden glow upon his face - Away from the shadows of his beloved brother - Loki left to find his own solitary peace.</p><p>* - * - * -* -*</p><p>" In Godric, he found another Thor to fill his guilt</p><p>  In Rowena, he found the wisdom to use his knowledge</p><p>  In Helga, he was taught that he was loved "</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a World to be

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at an Avengers fic~  
> I never really tried with something like it. Kudos~ ^-^

Winter was a season when the earth was engulfed in a blanket of ice. The snow drifted far over Asgard, falling, flowing; small speckles in the dim light of the day and the darkness of the night. Within the homes he thought he knew, he would imagine a family of four; Happy, Elated, sitting across a peaceful flame with stories told of adventurous days. Loki would imagine a mother's arm soothing him, and a father's booming voice to chase away the cold. Winter, was the harshest season to Loki's longing.

Loki Odinson knew of the discreet little whispers. It was easier to spot as he grew, when he left his mother's side, to see the world in your own eyes. It was always clear that Thor was favoured - Was he jealous? Was Loki Jealous? - but never had he considered the shadow over him would grow larger as he grew. He was foolish to believe, indeed he was, to believe that one day he would ride in splendor glory with cackling magic at his side. There was a time when magic was a blessing.

His fingers grazed the map. Midgard? A weak realm of savages and ruthless mortals. His nose sniffed, the map drifting scents of old dust and cobwebs, as he thought that he perhaps had made a mistake. Magic on Midgard was close to impossible - Close, as it would or could be proven to be. The map had showed no glorious land to his eyes. 

His fingers curled around the hem of the paper. Od - Father would never let him go; Mother would argue about his safety; and beloved Thor would urge him to let him follow. In addition, there was the ever-watchful Heimdall with his keen golden eyes; Loki could already veil himself within his own cloak of darkness, but suspicion would soon arise at his trail. Was it worthed? By the Norns, yes. He could prove something - He could find the first trace of magic in what most deemed the weakest realm.

 

X

 

"Brother!" Thor's voice echoed harmoniously within the golden halls of the palace. "Far have I journeyed - this time it took me far closer to Jotunheim this time - and how I would gladly share the wondrous and thrilling deeds to you!" His boots clanked the floor carelessly, his stride powerful and confident; velvet cape draping from his back. 

Loki set him a tight lipped smile. "Nay, Thor, though your adventure would surely be thrilling." His decline was clipped, formal; and he tried his very best to not be offensive. "But mother awaits me, she beckons me this noon." He nodded his head softly, his chest heaving as he took a heavy breath. 

Thor's voice called out after him. "Loki! You spend too much time in your scrolls. One day you may appreciate the real beauty of a warrior!"

X

He had lied. It was easy, it was too easy. It hurt him, to see how easily everyone believed his lies; inquires were never made; questions were never raised. It hurt him, to think that perhaps no one cared enough to ask. But Thor was easily lied to, he had once tried to amended, he's a fool and an idiot with a heart softer than wool. But Mother? He knew she had seen past many lies, but he asked himself why she never asked. He made a habit of lying.

His magic does not need rest. It is a part of him, there is nothing to recharge. It is like a warrior's strength; it would dwindle for sometime if overused. The Veil magic he had used was a dangerous one, he was told - cast wrongly, and it would doom him to be forever a shadow. But that was Loki - Loki was risking, but he knew to be cunning. He teleported, his body melting into one in the eaves of the Asgard night. He twisted in the cave, the wind splinters against his cheeks as he drove on further. His magic exploded as he transported himself into Midgard.

X

 

He woke in a strange room. In a strange hut. In a stranger's bed. 

There were heavy scents of flowers and cooking in the air. It smelled fresh, with the tint of warmth like his Mother's. He lay on a bed with a dully woven cover, his body aching as his sore back stretched. The room was small, in comparison to his own, with wooden walls and a creaking floor as he placed his foot down. There were paintings that moved - He puzzled over their many ridiculous questions - and brooms that sweeped the floor with an invisible holder. Magic? Certainly, he thought. The flowers were queer too, some snapped when he tried to touch them; some changed colours; and some simply shrunk away into the ground. 

Perhaps his magic had collided with ... this. He had felt the shift in the air as he travelled, following the location of the previously spotted spark; but never had he imagined the collision would be so great. 

"Oh, wonderful. It seems that you have awaken." She was not plump, Loki decided, but she was not so thin and stringy either. Her dark blonde hair tied in a messy bun atop of her head; falling down to her round cheeks and inquiring brown eyes. "You were awfully pale when I found you - falling straight from the sky, that is - Are you alright?" 

Loki nodded hesitantly. She smiled at him, a full smile with wide teeth and lips strained. She placed down a loaf of bread she was carrying, her yellow dress decorated with sprinkles of little crumbs. "I'm Helga, Helga Hufflepuff."

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued~


End file.
